


When Politics Is Finished With You

by agoodtuckering



Series: The Thick of It Stories [11]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Heartache, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Goolding Inquiry, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: When the day the trial has come to an end, and Malcolm has somehow survived, he sees a familiar face.
Relationships: Jamie MacDonald/Malcolm Tucker
Series: The Thick of It Stories [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1046006
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	When Politics Is Finished With You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a friend of mine. Her art is beautiful. Follow her on twitter, @space_glasgow. A piece she'd done inspired this entire story for me. Show her some love.

Everything had just come to a close. The case was over. Malcolm had left the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom with his dignity in tatters but head held high. He didn't know how else to be. 

_ It was finally over.  _

No criminal charges had been filed against him concerning the death of Mr. Tickel, and he had won his court case against the Goolding Inquiry's members, concerning his outstanding, monumentally fucking stupid self-perjury. There wasn't enough evidence to put him away for any length of time. The jurors had  _ very quickly  _ returned and found him innocent of all charges. 

He was stood on Westminster Bridge now, overlooking the Thames, enjoying the light breeze as it picked up in the air. The fresh air felt good.

Suddenly he heard a voice behind him.  _ That fucking voice.  _ He knew he'd follow him here. 

"No fuckin' gaol time for ye, ae? That's a win."

Malcolm turned his head to find Jamie standing there, hands in pockets. He chuckled ruefully, asking, "Well, ye would know, Jay. Ye were there during every single one of my hearings."

Jamie came over to lean against the stone of the bridge, peeking over the edge to admire the water down below. Malcolm couldn't bear to. That had always been the difference between them; Jamie didn't care about the danger his actions could possibly cause. He never had. He was wild and reckless and sure of himself.There was a fucking metaphor for the ages. 

"Ye know why I was there," Jamie said quietly, not even bothering to shoot a quick glance or even a whisper of a glimpse Malcolm's way. He didn’t need to see those eyebrows furrow, high and fucking mighty as they were, in every sense of the phrase.

"Yer motives for doing fuckin'  _ anything  _ have always been mysterious tae me," the older of the two fired back. He was  _ tired. _ Tired of fighting by the skin of his teeth in a world so cruel, tired of having to bury bodies for a living, of having to give his entire self, his soul, for a Party that didn't give a shit about him anymore. He was just  _ tired.  _ Sore and hopeless and wrung out. He wanted to be finished with it all. Perhaps he could move on now, to better things.

Jamie studied his side profile for a fleeting moment before offering, "Yer fuckin' old now, mate. God but it's been years since I've seen ye. Christ, ye look like that fuckin' prop skeleton from Tales From the fucking Crypt, ae. Do ye even feed yerself anymore? Does Sam?"

His gentle, playful needling still managed to get under Malcolm's skin. He cringed for a moment, spitting out, "If yer here tae comment of my withering fuckin' physique and all that, ye can go crawl back tae whatever cave that leads tae Hell ye came out of, right. I'm no in the mood, Jay."

Jamie chucked. "Oh, ae, I will later. Me and Mephisto are shagging. He likes it up the back door these days. Really broad minded bloke that one. … Malc, be honest. Ye missed this."

Malcolm allowed himself the tiniest of chuckles, the sound hoarse in his throat. He felt too raw just then. Far, far too raw. This entire charade, the case and the court visits, had taken it out of him. The fight was barely there anymore. He sighed, finally turning towards Jamie as he leant against the bridge. 

"No," he replied, softer now. "I really havenae, Jamie. Havenae missed it at all."

Jamie mirrored the movement, eyes roaming the other's face. A brow rose and he asked, "If ye needed a right hand man to get rid of Nic'la, mate, why didnae ye call me? I wonae pretend we're on the best of terms but I've always been there for ye when it counted, havenae I? All ye ever had to do was ask. Ye know that."

Malcolm didn't say anything at first. Finally, after a long pause, he simply told him, "It doesnae matter now, does it? Christ, I'm fuckin' finished. I'm through with politics. And politics is through with me."

Jamie was suddenly struck with a very familiar feeling, the desire to reach out to Malcolm and wrap his arms around him. If for no other reason than just to hold him. That was all. To just feel him there, to have him in his arms. It left his throat dry and his eyes burned. No matter how long he had been away, this feeling never faded. 

"Sam's stuck behind ye throughout everything," Jamie eventually said. "Yer a lucky cunt. She cares about ye. I spoke to her as we were leaving the courthouse. She’s a good friend, mate."

Malcolm only nodded in agreement. There were no words left to say.  _ None.  _

"So is this really it, then?" Jamie asked. "Yer really through with politics?"

Malcolm was struck by a random, incredible need to throw his head back and scream. The Party had done nothing but take, take, take, and ruin his fucking life. He had nothing to himself. No love, no private life, not much of a connection to his family these days, nothing anymore. 

"Yeah," he forced out quietly. "I'm fuckin' done with that chapter of my life. All of it."

Silence followed the statement, leaving it hanging there in the space between them. Fuck if it didn't make his throat feel tight and his mouth useless. 

Malcolm watched, fascinated, as Jamie's fingers reached out for his hand. He'd always been so expressive with those eyes of his and now was certainly no exception. The years had been kind to Jamie. His face barely held any wrinkles. He still had the same, unkempt curly hair and a suit that was a size too large for him. His eyes still sparkled mischievously. He still had a sharp tongue, and a hidden dimple that made rare appearances.

If anything, it only made Malcolm feel older. 

His eyes fell to their hands, bewilderment crossing his expression. No words came out, despite how badly he wanted to curse, 'Get tae fuck,' or ask what was going on in that pea Jamie used as a brain. 

"Ye sure yer done with every bit of yer old life? Ready tae be finished with that whole chapter, are ye? I'm no sure I am."

Malcolm could barely breathe now. Jamie took the rare opportunity to continue speaking.

"If ye arnae in politics anymore…" He paused, as if he was unsure of himself. The older man was holding his breath, afraid to shatter the moment. Then Jamie added, "If that life is behind ye now, ye old cunt, maybe we can finally… do what we've always wanted tae. Ye deserve tae be happy, dinnae ye think?"

Again, Malcolm was struggling to multitask, breathing and following along with Jay's words felt like too much of a task at the moment. 

Finally, the former _Director of Communications_ spoke up. 

"What are ye implying, Jamie?"

The air felt terse right then. Malcolm drew his hand away from Jamie's, asking, "What have we always wanted tae do? Ye think ye know me so fuckin' well."

Jamie didn't speak. Not this time. Instead of saying a single word, he reached out to Malcolm and wrapped his fingers around his tie. His lips brushed his afterward. One of them made a noise and he wasn't quite sure who it was. 

All the while, vehicles were driving past them on the bridge. No one paid them any mind. No one fucking cared about two older men in nice suits kissing on a bloody bridge. Not a single soul gave them more than a thought.

A few treacherous moments passed where Jamie wondered if he might pull away before Malcolm's hand rose to brush his cheek and instinctively the younger man's lips parted. The kiss was long and slow and wanting, and Jamie was struck by how dominant Malcolm was, at all times, even now. Why should that change now? It was incredible, though. Jamie had always had a submissive soul. Malcolm seemed to know that without really ever having known.. 

By the time they both drew away, they were gasping for breath. All at once Jamie noticed a few details. Malcolm looked years younger. The stress was gone from him, leeched away. Also, he was smiling. Very fucking rare, indeed, that. Then he was speaking. 

"What tae fuck? Yer aff yer heid, daft cunt," Malcolm said. "Why'd ye fuckin' kiss me, Jay?"

Jamie's hands were still on Malcolm's chest, one of them wrapped around the man's silver tie. He laughed and blurted out, "Because I've always fuckin' wanted tae. And if yer really done with politics, maybe things can be different now, for both of us."

At Malcolm's raised brow, Jamie merely rambled on, "Why did ye kiss me back, then, old man? That was the best kiss I've had in fuckin' years. Should've done it when we were still in government and working together."

A jogger passed them on the bridge and Malcolm cleared his throat softly, only mildly amused at the fact that Jamie made no move to release his tie from his hold or step away from him.

"Because I fuckin' wanted tae, that's why," Malcolm confessed a moment or so later, eyes lighter than Jamie had seen all day. 

"A dinnae loue ye," Jamie attempted to get out but Malcolm silenced him with his lips once again. His knees practically went weak.  _ Of course  _ he was lying. A piece of him had always loved Malcolm Tucker.

"Oh, ae?" Malcolm asked. "Ye dinnae loue me? Dinnae fuckin' lie tae me, Jay. Other people might be able to fall for yer shit, but no me. Let's go home, back tae my place. God knows yers is probably in a state. Do ye ever fuckin’ clean? Has that changed at all?"

As far as first kisses went, that was incredible, and so worth the long, long wait. 

"Okay," Jamie finally said, practically purring now, effectively shut the fuck up for once in his fucking life. "Yer place it is. Get us a cab, old man."

Things were about to change, but _ change _ was  _ good _ . It was needed, sometimes. Their old life was behind them but something wonderful awaited them. They deserved a little bit of happiness in this mad fucking world. 


End file.
